Chapter 15
Pretty as a picture
Cole
I know I’m breaking my own rules as I stare at myself in the mirror.
I’ve built those rules for a reason, to keep people out, to keep things clean and uncomplicated.
And she’s already wrecking them. Layla is leaving.
I’ve known that since the beginning. I’ve told myself it doesn’t matter, that whatever this is will burn out on its own.
But the thought of her walking away sits heavy in my chest, sharper than it should.
I know how this ends. I know I’m setting myself up to get hurt again.And the part I hate most is that it’s not the fear that’s stopping me, it’s the fact that I still want her anyway.
My chest tightens as the thought of it reminds me of Abby leaving.
She didn’t even say goodbye. I can already see it coming.
But maybe not. Maybe I can be that guy this time, the guy who says fuck it, no feelings involved.
Just fuck her. Enjoy her while she’s here.
Let her leave when her time is up. She’s already told me that’s what she wants anyway.
I drag a T-shirt over my head, button my jeans, slide on my boots. The routine steadies me a little. Keeps my hands busy so I don’t think too much about the way she felt wrapped around me earlier today. About the way her body fit against mine like it was always meant to.
Just as I’m walking down the stairs, passing the front door, it opens. And there she is. Layla. It’s as if the whole house goes quiet for me and it’s just her and I standing there. She’s soft where I’m rough.
She’s in a blue-and-white dress that hugs her curves just right. Her tits are sitting perfect in it—soft, full, impossible not to notice. Her chestnut-brown hair is chopped and swinging around her shoulders as she steps inside like she owns the place. Did she wear that just for me?
Fuck.
She looks up at me and smiles big.
“Hey you,” She says in a silky voice.
She walks right up to me and gives me a side hug like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You smell good,” she mutters.
“So do you,” I reply automatically.
And she does. She always does. Her hair smells like roses, every damn time she showers. Must be that shampoo she bought that morning after she got here. Sometimes I swear I still smell it after she leaves. On my clothes. On me.
“Hey y’all, come on and eat now,” my dad calls from the dining room.
We head in. Layla sits beside me without hesitation. I sit next to Dad. Nancy and Maggie are across from us, Steph next to Luke. A whole country spread. Fried chicken and the works.
“Hi, I’m Layla!” she says brightly to Steph.
“Hey. Nice to meet you,” Steph replies.
“This is my girlfriend, Stephanie,” Luke adds.
“You’re stunning and I love all your tattoos,” Layla says immediately.
“Thanks, I’m a tattoo artist. If you’re ever wanting some really good art, hit me up.” Steph shoots back, grinning.
Dinner starts off easy. Normal. Almost too normal.
Then Maggie opens her mouth.
“Sooo… are you guys a thing now?”
Yes. There’s no changing that now.
Layla glances at me, cheeks flushing red. I feel it too, heat crawling up my neck.
“Uh… well, we’re just going with the flow—”
“I saw them down at the creek,” Luke cuts in, way too casual. “Together. Naked.”
What the fuck. Maybe I should’ve reminded him not to say anything or I would kick his ass.
My jaw tightens instantly.
My dad shoots me a look sharp enough to cut steel. Nancy smiles but keeps her eyes down. Maggie looks shocked and thrilled.
Layla freezes.
Then she straightens her shoulders.
“Cole and I have decided we’re going to enjoy our time together while I’m here. No strings attached, since you must know,” she says coolly. “And Luke—we’re both grown adults, and if we want to get naked in the middle of a forest, that’s our god-given right.”
She smiles, but it’s tight. Controlled. Furious underneath.
She shouldn’t have to defend herself. I should have spoken up for her, for us.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Luke starts.
“It’s fine. Everyone knows now. I’m not mad,” Layla cuts in.
She is, though. I can see it. Her leg is bouncing under the table. Nervous. Exposed.
I slide my hand onto her thigh. The movement stops instantly. She grabs my hand and squeezes hard, grounding herself. My touch calms her down. Just like hers does for me. It's hard to think that just a few days ago my feelings about this girl were very different.
Dad pulls out his phone. “All the family’s here. Time for a perfect picture.”
Really dad? Sometimes I feel as though he’s clueless. Or maybe he has just gotten to the age that he doesn’t care anymore.
After dinner, Layla helps Nancy, Maggie, and Steph with the dishes. I corner Luke near Dad.
“That was uncalled for,” I say.
Dad backs me up instantly. “She’s new here. You had no right to embarrass her.”
Luke looks down. “I didn’t think she’d get all weird about it.”
“Go apologize,” I say.
He nods and heads toward the kitchen.
“God,” I mutter. “This kid gives me chest pain.”
Dad looks at me. “You like her, don’t you?”
I pause my whole body freezing and then–
“Yup,” I say without thinking.
“Your plan is to make her fall for you in hopes she’ll stay?” he asks quietly.
I scoff, clear my throat. “Working on it.”
“Don’t get your heart broken.” He sighs, pats my back, gives me a knowing smile, and walks toward the kitchen.
What am I doing? Setting myself up to get hurt again—that’s what. Setting myself up for failure. But I can’t help it. Being around her feels easy. Right. Like home.
“You want to go for a walk?” Layla asks, her voice bright and excited, eyes sparkling like she’s just discovered the best secret. “I really need to walk around. I’m so stuffed from dinner and the sunset is absolutely everything.” She adds, already bouncing a little on her toes.
I slide my hand to the small of her back, warm through the thin fabric of her dress and guide her down the narrow hallway out of the kitchen. Her body fits against my palm like it belongs there. Damn, it does.
“Where y’all going?” Dad hollers from the living room, TV blaring some old Western in the background.
“For a walk. We’ll be back,” Layla shouts over her shoulder, casual as hell, like she’s been yelling answers to my family for years.
It hits me hard, she’s already slipping into this place like it’s home.
Laughing with my sister at dinner, teasing Luke about his terrible poker face, even helping Nancy clear plates without being asked.
Comfortable. Natural. And yeah, part of me loves it.
The bigger part—the grumpy, guarded part—is terrified it’ll scare her off.
Luke’s big mouth earlier didn’t help. Blabbing about catching us naked by the creek like it was comical. I’m still pissed about it. If he ruined that perfect moment for her, I swear…
We step onto the porch, the screen door slapping shut behind us. The air’s cooling fast, carrying the scent of hay and pine. Sunset’s painting everything gold and pink. Layla heads straight toward the barn path without me saying a word, hips swaying just enough to make my mouth dry.
It’s quiet between us at first. Awkward quiet. The kind that makes me itch.
“I’m sorry if Luke embarrassed you,” I say, keeping my tone light even though my jaw’s tight.
She glances up, smiles soft. “That’s okay. He apologized.”
I nod, but she keeps going, voice dropping a notch. “I just don’t want your family thinking I’m some whore just because we mess around.” She pauses, cheeks pinking. “I’m not a whore, by the way.” Nervous laugh.
“I know you’re not,” I snap back—sharper than I mean to. Shit. Softer,“I know.”
She looks so damn beautiful right now. Hair catching the dying light, glowing like fire. Those brown eyes turning almost amber in the sunset, wide and vulnerable. My chest squeezes.
“I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time,” she blurts. “This is about the closest thing in years that’s come to it.”
“I understand, Layla. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“Good because I really like you, Cole, but I love doing what I do. My writing. I’m an author. I can’t just stay here and not do that. It would break me. My agent is in Seattle. I mean I haven’t even discussed any of this with her. I don’t—”
I cut off her rambling by backing her gently against the fence, hands cupping her face.
My thumb traces slow down the center of her cleavage—light, teasing—watching her breath hitch, lips part.
Then I kiss her. Slow. Gentle. Just enough to shut off the spiral in her head.
I don’t want to take her from her career or make her feel like she has to stay.
So I won’t tell her how I really feel, she will have to make that decision on her own.
I can feel her breathing change, quicker, shallower. God, I love teasing her. I love watching her melt.
“We’re having fun like you said. Right?” I whisper against her mouth.
“Yes,” she whispers back, looking up at me all innocent and wide-eyed. It’s lethal.
I pull away, start walking again, leaving her stunned against the fence. I glance back, motion with my head. Come on.
She catches up quickly, shoving my arm playfully. “Ya know it’s messed up to tease me like that.”
I smirk, keep walking until we’re inside the barn. The familiar smell hits—hay, leather, wood. Dim golden light filters through the high windows. There’s the old workbench along the wall, smooth from years of use.
I grab her quickly, lift her in one smooth motion, plop her ass right on the table. She squeals, half-laugh, half-gasp.
“I know you wore this dress for me tonight,” I whisper in her ear, voice low and rough.
She moans softly, giggles, turns her head shyly away. Fuck, that shy thing she does? Kills me every time.
“What are you doing?” she asks, flirty, already knowing.
“I’m going to taste you.”
I have to. I need to. I bunch her dress up around her hips—black lacy thong underneath, pussy already slick and perfect. I’ve seen it before, buried myself in it, but not like this. Not in the barn’s warm glow, panties pulled aside, waiting for my mouth.